Out of Time
by Little.Miss.Xanda
Summary: Hermione had warned him about bad things happening to wizards who meddled with time. Harry, however, was completely innocent this time around. He hadn't done anything at all, in fact. Not with the time-travel, or getting found by Potters, or even the kissing. He certainly hadn't been the one starting the kissing.


**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made.

 **Written for the Quidditch League – Season 5 Fanfiction Competition – Round 12**

 **Round 12 - Pair Them Up!**

Harry Potter is an amazing fandom for writers. There are so many pairings out there that another person might look at with wide eyes and say, 'what on Earth are you thinking?' To you, however, you may just love that pairing. This round, everyone is given the same 16 characters. It is your choice, however, how you decide to pair them. If something like Dobby and Umbridge in a romantic relationship is your thing, then sure, we won't judge you. All characters can only be used once within your team (eg. If the captain chooses Harry/Ginny, your Keeper can then not use Harry OR Ginny.)

 **CAPTAIN:** You'll be writing about two characters in a romantic relationship.

 **Characters:** Harry Potter, Sirius Black

 **Word count: 2958**

* * *

 **Out of Time  
**  
Charlus stomped down the corridor; the dark frown he was sporting kept everyone away. In any other situation—any normal situation—Charlus would have felt guilty about his rude behavior. However, when an old friend of his, Jacob, had Flooed him late at night, demanding his presence at Mungo's right that moment, and also swearing him to secrecy… well, Charlus hardly considered any of that a normal situation, especially in these times.

Dorea had worried that something had happened to James, and only Jacob's insistent assurance that it wasn't related to their son had calmed her down.

Still, would it have hurt to let Charlus know a little more?

Charlus walked into Jacob's office, closing the door behind him. Jacob was sitting behind his desk, shuffling a few sheets of parchments around.

"Sit down, Charlus." Jacob didn't even look up, and Charlus glared.

"What's this about?" he asked, making no move to sit. "It's the middle of the night, and you scared us half to death with that call. Dorea would be here demanding answers if you hadn't sworn that it didn't concern James."

Jacob finally looked up, and Charlus' glare softened when he saw just how tired his friend looked.

"Please, Charlus, it'll be better if you sit."

Slowly, Charlus took a seat in front of Jacob's desk. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Are you in trouble? Do you need help?"

Jacob sighed, shaking his head. "I'm fine, old friend. Listen carefully, alright? And please answer truthfully; nothing you say will leave this office."

Charlus narrowed his eyes but nodded.

"Alright," Jacob said, taking a deep breath. "Have you ever been unfaithful to Dorea?"

Charlus stared at Jacob for a moment before he burst out in a snort, incapable of holding it back. "Even if I had ever been tempted to do such a thing, I wouldn't have been brave enough to. Dorea might be named Potter now, but she _is_ a Black."

Jacob slumped in his chair, and Charlus leaned forward.

"Earlier this evening, there was some commotion at the Ministry. We weren't told what happened, of course, but two Unspeakables showed up here with someone. They told us that he was injured, and demanded that we determine his family. And if he had any, we were to contact said family, and if he didn't, we were to get back to them." Jacob got up, moving towards the door. "I'm his primary healer; there were only two others who were aware of him. The Unspeakables obliviated them. As far as everyone is concerned, he's just a patient like any other."

Charlus followed after Jacob without a word. He didn't like what his mind was coming up with. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible. The three of them were the only Potters left, him, Dorea, and James. The wars hadn't been easy on their family.

They stopped in front of a door a little down the hall. Jacob turned to look at him.

"Remember, it's not James."

Charlus frowned but nodded.

Jacob hesitated for a moment, then opened the door and motioned Charlus inside. Charlus walked in, only to freeze mere steps inside the room as soon as his eyes landed on the body on the bed. It took everything in him not to race towards the boy's side. If he didn't know any better, he would swear that he was looking at his son, lying so painfully still on that hospital bed.

There were a few differences, his height and body mass were the main ones, but the boy on the bed could pass as a twin to James.

"I haven't woken him up yet," Jacob said, and Charlus had to struggled to look away from the boy. "Here." Jacob handed him one of the parchments he had been shuffling around on his desk.

Charlus took it, recognizing it as a standard patient blood-record, having seen them filled in a number of times for his Aurors back when he had been in active service. They were used to provide the healer with the basic information about the patient, such as name and age, as well as former and current health status.

The name was the first thing Charlus eyes locked on. He had known already that the boy had to be a Potter, but there was no denying it now. Harry James Potter. Neat, cursive letters at the top of the page identified the boy, followed by the number fifteen. Charlus' eyebrow rose at that. The boy, Harry, looked far too small to be fifteen. James was sixteen, and he looked so much bigger that Charlus would have said that Harry couldn't be older than fourteen, and that was pushing it. Then his eyes went to the list of injuries, and his blood froze.

"What's this?"

He hadn't even noticed that his hand was shaking until Jacob placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," his friend whispered, and Charlus wanted to curse someone, preferably the people responsible for the many injuries listed.

Charlus took a deep breath, carefully folding the parchment and putting it in the pocket of his robes. Dorea would want to see it, he was sure. Charlus almost pitied the poor boy; he could already see the mothering that Dorea would submit him to. Then again, clearly a bit of mothering was something Harry was in dire need of.

"Wake him," he told his friend, approaching the bed.

Jacob nodded, and moments later Harry's eyelids were fluttering open.

Charlus breath caught in his throat when bright emerald-green eyes looked at him. He had never seen such an arresting color on any Potter before. They were even more striking than his beautiful Dorea's gray ones.

There was confusion clouding that gaze.

"Dad?" the boy rasped, coughing right after, and Charlus hurried to his side, handing him the glass of water that was on the bedside table.

"Slowly," he said when Harry gulped down the water.

When Harry was done, he took back the glass and handed the boy the glasses that had been on the bedside table. His lips twitched when he noticed that they were the same style James used.

Jacob stepped forward, and Harry's gaze snapped towards him, hand going to a wand that wasn't there. Charlus glanced around, noticing a hospital regulation bag with a wand and a couple other things inside.

"Mr. Potter, do you know where you are?"

Harry narrowed his eyes and shook his head. Charlus chest puffed out a little in pride when he saw Harry's gaze sweep over the room, locating any possible exits and his things in a heartbeat. Then his mind went to the innocent parchment in his pocket and he frowned. From that list, he could understand why a fifteen-year-old was acting like a trained Auror.

"You're at St. Mungo's. Do you know what that is?"

Harry nodded. "My friends? Are they alright?"

Jacob hesitated for a moment. "You were the only one brought in. You were brought in by Unspeakables. Mr. Potter, based on that, I can guess from where they brought you. Do you remember how you got there?"

Again, Harry nodded. "I thought Voldemort was torturing someone. My friends went with me. It was a trap. Death Eaters were there. We tried getting away; we were fighting them. I ran into this room… it was strange. Hermione said it was _time_ after that one Death Eater ran into something and was stuck in a loop, turning from an adult to a baby and back. Then there was a cry from behind me, and I was flung forward into a shelf, and… I don't know. I woke here."

Charlus had been Head Auror. He was well aware of what room Harry was talking about. However, there was a little voice in his mind telling him that it wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible.

Jacob, though, just nodded.

"Do you know who your parents are?" he asked, and Charlus looked up sharply.

"James and Lily Potter," Harry answered, frowning.

Charlus felt his heart jump right out of his chest. No, no. This couldn't be true. This war couldn't have lasted so long.

Jacob nodded, again. "And can you tell me what year it is?"

Harry's frown became more pronounced.

"1995."

Charlus couldn't stop the sharp gasp, and Harry looked back at him. Charlus didn't even want to try and read all the emotions flashing in those eyes.

"Harry," he whispered, reaching out a hand before letting it drop to his side. "I'm Charlus Potter, your grandfather."

* * *

Harry fidgeted in his seat. He glanced up when he heard the soft chuckle from his grandma. Well, his 'mom' now, he supposed. It had been a month since he had woken up at St. Mungo's, and he couldn't quite believe what had happened. The last thing he had thought would happen when he had rushed off to the Ministry was that he'd get thrown into the past and be adopted by his grandparents. Harry was sure he was still in shock because he hadn't freaked out as much as he thought he should.

"Don't be nervous, dear." His grandma smiled at him. "James is eager to meet you."

Harry bit his lip. "What… what if he doesn't like me?" he whispered, voicing for the first time the thought that had been plaguing him since he understood that he would be meeting his dad.

He startled as a gentle hand landed on his shoulder, and looked up at his grandpa.

"There's no fear of that." His grandpa squeezed his shoulder. "James has been sending a letter every day asking about you."

"Does he know?"

His grandma got up from her armchair and took a seat beside him on the sofa. "We told him the truth, yes. However, James is just one year older than you. Don't expect him to be your father; it would be hard for him to live up to your expectations."

"I know," he whispered. He hadn't expected James to be his _dad_. He was just happy he would get the chance to meet him. He had seen a glimpse of what his dad had been as a teenager, and he had been so disappointed. Remus and Sirius had said that his dad had changed, and he wanted to see that.

His grandma cupped his cheek. "Everything is going to be fine," she told him.

He took a deep breath, feeling calmer as his grandpa gave his shoulder another squeeze.

"I'm going to go pick the boys up," his grandfather said. "I won't be long."

"Boys?" Harry asked, once his grand—no. He needed to remember that they weren't his grandparents. They were Charlus and Dorea, or mom and dad, as they had told him he could call them.

Dorea smiled. "Sirius is living with us now."

"Sirius?" Harry whispered, wide-eyed. Oh, Merlin. He wasn't ready for that. It was hard enough to meet James, but Sirius, too?

"You know him?" Dorea sounded delighted.

Harry nodded dazedly. "He's my godfather."

Dorea took his hand, her gray eyes sparkling. "Just like James, this Sirius isn't old enough for that."

"Does… does he know, too?"

Dorea laughed. "We didn't tell him, but I doubt that James kept it a secret from him. Thick as thieves, those two."

Harry grinned, remembering McGonagall saying something similar.

"Talking about us?"

Harry's breath caught in his throat. He watched as Dorea looked up and beamed. He knew he should turn around, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

"Well, of course," Dorea replied, squeezing his head, and Harry could breathe again. "How are you, boys?"

"Pretty fantastic, Aunt Dorea."

Harry gasped at the voice. Sirius. He turned before he even realized he was turning, and locked eyes with bright gray.

"Sirius," he whispered, gazing at the young man in front of him. He had always known that his godfather was good looking—he had eyes and the memories from the pensive were still fresh in his mind. But one year seemed to have matured Sirius, pushing him from boyish good looks to something more.

Sirius' smile was frozen on his face, eyes wide, staring at him, and suddenly Harry wanted to hide away. What had he been thinking just blurting his name out like that? He was so very glad that Sirius knew because if he didn't then Harry would have given everything away, or come across as completely crazy.

"You're Harry," another voice said, and Harry looked to the left, his heart jumping out of his chest when he saw James standing just a couple steps behind Sirius.

James was looking at him as if he was the most wondrous thing in the world, and Harry ducked his head, blushing.

He looked up when a slightly calloused hand cupped his cheek forcing his head up. James was in front of him, a soft smile on his lips.

"Hi," James whispered.

"Hi."

James' smile brightened. "I'd be a crappy dad now," he said. "But I wouldn't mind being your big brother."

Harry's answering smile was just as bright.

* * *

"What are you doing?"

Sirius almost jumped out of his skin.

"Give a bloke a heart-attack, why don't you Prongs?" Sirius grumbled, trying to calm his racing heart.

James raised an eyebrow and glanced out the window he had been looking out. "Harry-watching again?" James asked.

Sirius spluttered.

"It's fine." James stopped looking out the window and turned to face Sirius. "You didn't think you could hide it from me, did you? I've known you for years." James smirked. "You know, I'm kinda flattered, he does look like me."

"You look nothing alike!" Sirius looked James up and down. "You're all tall and gangly and muscled."

"I don't think you can be gangly _and_ muscled," James muttered, but Sirius plowed right over him as if he hadn't heard.

"He's delicate and small and has those bright eyes and his voice is so soft and—" Sirius snapped his mouth shut, a soft blush dusting his cheeks.

He looked away from James' narrowed gaze.

"He's my son."

Sirius flinched.

"Well, technically, he's my little brother now."

Sirius glanced up. James was still glaring at him but there was a softer look in his eyes.

"You're like a brother to me, Pads. If you hurt him, I'll skin you alive and use your pelt as a rug." James smiled at him, all sunshine and rainbows, and walked out of the room, leaving Sirius gaping after him.

"Teenagers," someone sighed from behind him, and Sirius flinched.

He turned around to see his Uncle Charlus leaning against the door frame at the other end of the room.

"He gets that from his mom, but don't tell her I said so." Charlus leaned away. "Don't take it to heart. James is just feeling a little overprotective."

"I know," Sirius whispered, looking back out the window again. "I won't do anything."

"Won't you?"

Sirius shook his head. "I mean, he'll be going away soon, right?"

"No, he really won't."

Sirius' head snapped up.

"The incident created a different timeline; it split from the original one the moment Harry landed here. From what _they_ can decipher from the residue magic, this Harry is a version from the one in the original timeline; however, the Harry of that timeline still exists there. He was split, so to speak. This Harry is our Harry now."

Sirius valiantly ignored the joyful twinge his heart gave.

* * *

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

Harry looked up from the book he had been attempting to read. Attempting being the key word since he had been stuck on the same page for the last half an hour.

"Nothing," he mumbled, closing the book.

Dorea sighed. "Is it Sirius?"

Harry's head snapped up, eyes wide.

Dorea chuckled. "Why don't you go talk to him?"

Harry shrugged. "He doesn't seem to like me much."

Dorea laughed and Harry looked up, unused to seeing her show such blatant amusement.

"Ah, dear, you really think so?" she asked, smile still present on her lips. "You must be the only person in this Manor thinking that. Go on." She shooed him away. "Go speak with my silly nephew. I always thought that Potters and Blacks made wonderful matches."

Harry frowned at her but did as she had told him. If he were being honest, he had wanted to talk with Sirius. At least more than the few words they exchanged whenever they crossed paths in the manor. However, he had felt ridiculously shy around Sirius.

He stumbled to a stop when he ran into something soft, and his cheeks darkened with a blush when he saw that the something soft was Sirius.

Sirius reached forward, steadying him, and Harry's blush darkened. This, among other things, was the reason why he hadn't initiated any conversations with Sirius. It seemed as if Sirius had the ability to reduce him to a stuttering mess.

"Harry," Sirius murmured, pressing a little closer to him.

"Sirius."

Then, before Harry even knew what was happening, soft lips were gently meeting his own. A feather-light kiss brushing against his lips.

It was enough to leave him dazed.

Sirius pulled away, a faint dusting of pink covering the bridge of his nose.

"Harry," he repeated. "Do you want to go on a date with me?"

Harry stared, unable to believe what had just happened, even if part of him was jumping for joy shouting yes at the top of his lungs.

Sirius fidgeted, which was enough to break Harry out of his thoughts.

"Yes!"

Sirius grinned, the brightest grin Harry had ever seen, and when Sirius leaned in for a deeper kiss, Harry could do nothing but melt into the tender embrace.


End file.
